


I know

by ifreet



Category: due South
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-05-01
Updated: 2006-05-01
Packaged: 2017-10-10 09:02:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/97956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifreet/pseuds/ifreet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the Highway Miles challenge, prompt 44 - RayK being frisked against a car with his hands behind his head.</p><p>Kowalski is undercover, Fraser is telling stories, and Vecchio is listening.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I know

  
Once Ray had realized he'd be stuck at the attorney's office, he'd called. Still, it was later than he'd have liked when he finally got home. The apartment was quiet, but with Kowalski out indefinitely on an assignment that didn't tell him much.

"Benny?" he called, hanging his overcoat in the entranceway closet.

A moment later, Ray was wrapped in warm arms. He tipped his head to meet a brief, but welcoming kiss. "You're home." Another kiss. "Hungry?"

Ray shook his head. "I grabbed a sandwich earlier."

"Ah."

Ray slipped out of Ben's embrace to shed shoes and tie, attempting to shed a day spent defending himself to the judicial system by shedding its required uniform.

"You saw him today."

"Saw who?" Ray replied absently. Ben stepped into his space, pushed his suit jacket off his shoulders.

"Ray." And Ray paused, half out of his jacket, eyes automatically going to Ben's, before he realized that that was actually Ben answering his question and not simply grabbing his attention. Frowning slightly, he started to respond, but Ben pressed two fingers against his lips, stilling the words. And he knew he could question Ben, or argue with him, or just go with whatever it was he was up to and end up at the same place faster. Ray swallowed back the words. Ben's approval showed in his eyes.

"You saw Ray. You didn't mean to, precisely, because you know better than to go looking for him while he's under." And now that he was listening for it, Ray recognized Benny's storytelling tone. "But you had an errand to run, and if that happened to take you to the right neighborhood, well..."

"Then I just happened to be in the neighborhood." Ray could take a cue, and that 'well' seemed prompting.

"And you happened to glance down the right alley to spot a familiar vehicle, a furtive motion drawing your eye to the even more familiar figure beside it." Ben curled his hand around Ray's belt near the buckle and used it to tug Ray through the apartment to the bedroom. "His clothes were more disreputable than usual, denim jacket and jeans showing their wear even from a distance, but his blond hair was still artfully ruffled --"

"And I'd have known that nose anywhere." Flash of a smile from Ben, there and gone.

"The nose, and the way he moved, graceful, like a boxer or a dancer, like a man comfortable in his body."

In the bedroom, Ben released Ray long enough to stow his belt, holster, and gun away properly. But he pulled Ray onto the bed with him before he could change out of shirt and trousers, caught and arranged him so he lay back against Ben, who in turn leaned back against the headboard, his long legs stretched out to either side of Ray's.

"And, having seen him, you surely would have kept walking," Ben's voice was a pleasant rumble at his back. "But someone else saw him, too.

"'Stop, hands behind your head now!'" Ben snapped out; Ray startled at the abrupt increase in volume. Ben pulled him back against his chest, then continued at a more normal level. "The words, though familiar, were shouted by an unfamiliar voice. The slim jim clanked like cheap tin as it hit the asphalt while Ray raised his hands above shoulder height. 'Hey look, I'm just -- ' The words cut off, when his breath whooshed out of him as he made sudden contact with the side of his car."

"He was breaking into the GTO?"

"Sh," Ben's breath tickled against his ear. "Yes.

"You didn't even realize you'd moved forward until you notice the officer's partner eying you. You flashed her your badge, and with a jerk of your head, invited her into a conference a few steps further away from Ray and the police officer apprehending him.

"'Hands behind your head,' you heard, and you knew he would have obeyed, having learned an unfortunate lesson or two about nervous patrol officers. And you'd have known he'd be angry, because out of the hundreds of cars that disappear on any given day in Chicago, surely only he would have the bad luck of being stopped breaking into his own."

Ray smiled. Ben kissed the side of his face.

"You spun a tale a half-truths and total fabrications. Perhaps you claimed that Ray was your informant."

"Snitch."

Ray felt his back support shrug. "Regardless, she reluctantly agreed to remit him to your custody.

"Ray must've started to straighten back up, whether to identify himself or spin an obfuscation of his own because the officer who had initially pushed him into the car shoved him hard against it again. You had what you refer to as your 'game face' on, though, so you calmly stepped up beside the officer, replacing his hand with your own as his partner called him."

"He'd have to have known something was going on."

Ben hummed agreement. "Even through his jacket, you could feel the tension between his shoulder blades. You couldn't help the unprofessional, soothing stroke of your thumb, though you stopped it once you realized you were doing it.

"Ray's shoulders dropped, tension bleeding out of him just slightly. He knew it was you.

"To cover your reaction, you kicked his feet further apart than strictly necessary, knocking his chest into the GTO again -- he'd bruise by tomorrow."

"You'd be pissed."

"Sh." Ben's hands slid up to rub his shoulders.

"You ran your hands up Ray's arms, left, then right, just as though you were conducting a normal pat down. Except you ignored the feel of holster straps over Ray's shoulders. Except that you already knew exactly how the muscles in his arms curved and where they dipped." The hands at his shoulders stroked slowly, firmly down his shoulders, arms, forearms, wrists, down to briefly cover his hands, and then, eluding his grasp, made the equally slow return to his shoulders.

"And you were talking, ostensibly to Ray, though really for the benefit of the other two cops, attempting to convince them that this was business as usual, that the situation was under control.

"And they were leaving, but slowly, the man arguing lowly with his partner, because it was, after all, their arrest and who did you think you were anyway?

"You ran your hands down Rays sides next--" Ben's hands echoed his words, but lightly, teasingly, completely unlike a search "-- through the layers of shirt and jacket, you wouldn't have been able to feel his ribs, just the shape of his ribcage. You deliberately missed finding the gun under his arm, ran impersonal fingers over his chest and abdomen." Ray arched into Ben's far from impersonal fingers as they dipped between the buttons of his shirt to rub at warm skin and black hair, then wandered back out to run across his chest, to brush over his nipples.

"Ray's breath hitched regardless of your intent. 'Vecchio,' he growled." Ray gasped, Ben's surprisingly accurate impression of Kowalski's growl hitting all the right nerves.

"Your eyes darted to the mouth of the alley."

"The beat cops were gone?" Ray suggested hopefully.

He could feel Ben's smile, even if he couldn't see it. "Indeed they were, but Ray didn't know that yet. Your hands returned to his hips briefly, before you crouched behind Ray to run both hands down left leg, then down the right, and then with one last glance that the alley remained empty, you stood, left hand rising along his inseam, following the rippled denim up, up, up to his crotch, until you were cupping his erection through his jeans as you leaned forward to whisper, 'Miss me?'

"He jerked, though at the hot breath in his ear or the hand against his half-hard cock, you couldn't say. 'Christ, Vecchio...'"

Ray whimpered. Glacially slow, Ben's right hand drifted down the length of Ray's body, until it rested over his cock.

"You moved your hand back up to his waist. Ray shifted, attempting to get his legs back under him to turn around. But you checked his motion with another shove, pushed his hands down to rest on the roof of the car. 'You just stay put,' you told him."

Ben unfastened Ray's fly, pulled his cock free, spoke low and steady and right in his ear.

"Another quick glance to see that no one was paying undue attention to the alley from the street, and you'd undone Ray's jeans, buttons popping open in quick succession, hand reaching in to pull his cock out of the uncomfortable angle it'd been caught at.

"He was gasping now, like he was running, like he was fighting, like he was doing something harder than standing still while you stroked him."

\-- and Ben was jacking him with long, steady strokes, both of them still practically dressed, Ray's hands clenching into fists against Ben's jeans, Ben clutching Ray to him tight across the chest.

"You moved in closer still, leaned until your front pressed all along his back, your own erection pressed against Ray. You could feel every shake, every clench of Ray's body as though it were your own."

"God, Ben!"

"You dropped more of your weight on him, trying to get just that tiny bit closer. His legs were probably burning with the stretch of it, but he just grunted, his hips rocking into your hand then back against your groin with every stroke."

His head dropped back to Ben's shoulder, his eyes squeezed tight. Ben spoke into his neck, the words buzzing against his skin.

"You mouthed his neck above the jacket collar, the corner of his jaw, up to his ear, all the skin -- the only skin -- you could reach. You kept your strokes steady, not daring to tease him out in public, when you could be caught, but unable to stop. And Ray was right with you, the jerk of his hips stuttering now, his eyes clenched shut, biting his lip like that would stop the quiet throaty noises you were pulling out of him." Ben bit down on the skin his words had brushed, and Ray groaned and came. All over Ben's hand. All over his clothes.

And when he was able to string two thoughts together again, he asked, "Then what happened?"

"'Come on,' you said and set your teeth on Ray's neck, and that was it, a final, louder groan pushed out of Ray, and he was coming, shaking under you, as you stroked him through, slowing, gentling.

"You brushed a kiss in the soft short hair just behind Ray's ear, tucked him back into his pants. Ray made a displeased noise, too sensitive to handle in the aftermath, but you really didn't want to explain yourself to any passersby. And when Ray had his legs back under him, his car unlocked and his keys retrieved from the floorboard, you left."

Ray waited, but Benny seemed to be finished. "I just left?"

"Yes."

Ray made a displeased sound of his own. "I don't think much of that ending."

Ben was silent.

"He'll be fine."

"I know," Ben replied, just as though Ray's statement were obvious, self-evident.

"He'll be fine."

"I know, Ray," Ben repeated. But Ray'd known him long enough to catch the tiny hitch in his voice, that said he knew, but he didn't _know_\--

And damn if Kowalski hadn't been right to warn him. Someday, Ray thought, between the two of them, they would somehow convince Ben that it was okay to ask for things. In the meantime, Ray squirmed and twisted and, after a great deal of unnecessary difficulty, managed to reverse their positions enough that he ended up wrapped around Ben, rubbing circles on Ben's back, and saying, "He's going to be fine, Benny. He's going to be fine."


End file.
